The Throne of Flame: Chapter Fourteen

Skipper wasn't entirely sure how he'd forgotten that the lemurs were inclined to wild parties (they lived in the wild, were they capable of having any other type of party?). Certainly he knew, but he'd forgotten the extent of how insane they got. He'd grown accustomed to only three lemurs at one time; he had known of Julien's late night dancing, as had the whole entire zoo. But, as he remained seated atop a thick branch to overlook the party that the lemurs and his three men enjoyed, he realized that it was nothing in contrast to the types of parties thrown when an entire kingdom was involved. New York was child's play when compared to the riveting sway of Madagascar. This was Julien's homeland, and when the party began, his true element was revealed.

Skipper had no idea how they had the technology for explosive music like they did, but it went unquestioned by the lemur citizens of Madagascar, who apparently threw a party at every chance they got. The high quality bass boomed so fiercely from dozens of speakers that it shook the very trees and the jungle floor. Lights flashed in all directions, neon and bright against the inky night sky, like colorful spotlights that highlighted every movement. The jungle was warm on it's own, but it grew even hotter with the heat of each lemur, all of which danced passionately. The party on it's own was impressive, fantastical even but...

He realized that the party was nothing without Julien himself.

Julien was the center of attention, and the lights focused on him as he danced with such fervor that it dimmed the movements of all others. The party was made for him - in truth, yes it was intended to celebrate his return, but even more so, it felt like it would have been less than dull without the king. He was the life of the party. The way he danced was like water - ever changing, moving, shifting. More than that, he was the current itself. The way he danced guided the other lemurs, and they moved only to follow him, shadows to his ever bright quality. He was the star of the show, and they were merely the background to accentuate his beauty.

The lights bounced off of his fur, illuminating every soft, velvet strand. His luxurious, golden eyes traveled throughout the crowd, magnetic in their strength, pulling all those who dared to look closer. Every feature brought others to feel controlled by his sheer, effortless appeal. His movements were so powerful that Skipper found himself unable to stop watching - especially not when the king began to roll and shift his hips rhythmically, his thick haunches careening. His fluffy tail followed the movement only a fraction of a moment behind, and it occurred to Skipper that his was purposeful. It was stylistic, and he was astonished at how much thought was put into the true aesthetic power of dance. He could not remove his gaze.

To say Skipper was allured would be a heinous understatement. He was absolutely smitten with the way that Julien moved, so soft and sassy and bouncy, controlling the beat with his hips. His backside was more eye-catching than ever before, bringing all those who dared to look to quiver with dirty thoughts. And yet, after careful scrutinization, he realized that it was lacking it's full ability. Julien had far more potential than this, no matter how wowing his dancing already was, but he was distracted.

He was less carefree than he could have been, and his mind must have still been focused on the killer, even with how in sync he was with the tune of the Next Is The E. His eyes swerved to each side with such precision that it must have been highly controlled, and he was keeping an eye out for his assassin who was potentially still on the loose. It was cautious, inconspicuous, so as not to draw attention to his worry. He didn't want his people, or the assassin for that matter, to know that he wasn't fully concentrated on the rave that was blown in his honor.

This realization made Skipper almost feel sad, that he had to keep such an enormous fear from the open, that he could not be honest about his terror. And Skipper confirmed to himself that yes - Julien was a secretive being after all. All the factors had led up to it, this was only the ratification. How had he doubted him prior? Julien had made it clear to Skipper, and Skipper alone that he wanted his secrets to be discovered, if only by the commando penguin. He wanted Skipper to know that he was scared, that he felt terrified, and that he put up a good mask in front of others. That was the purpose for his bizarre, seemingly erratic conduct. Skipper felt stupid, ridiculous, cruel even for having doubted the king.

As though on cue with his epiphany, Julien's eyes swiveled to Skipper himself. The penguin resisted the natural reflex to jump at how utterly intense his eyes were; they seemed to glow with the same dazzling brilliance of each strobe light, if not more. Julien was, at first, almost amused by his staring, before his eyes seemed to only glow with the magic connection he'd gained with his bodyguard. They were locked together, and even as Julien shifted and turned, his stare never left Skipper's.

I feel it…

I feel it, yeah...

A coy grin twisted onto Julien's features, nearly seductive and possessing in nature. His brow delicately lifted as he stared Skipper down, and his hips appeared to move with even more zeal. He seemed to be wordlessly beckoning Skipper to join him on the dance floor, for Skipper to come and claim him, to take him. Skipper's heart picked up as he felt obliged to do so, drawn to Julien like a moth to the flame. This dance was not made for the penguin to watch, it was meant for him to be a part of.

I feel it…

I feel it, yeah...

All the lemurs seemed to disappear around the king, and his enticing movement only lured Skipper further. Before he could stop himself, he was on his feet, and it felt as though Julien was in control of his body instead of the penguin himself. Julien's captivating dance became downright tempting at that point, near sinful in nature when his rear end taunted him, and Skipper took a step forth, his beak wide open as Julien seemed to focus purely on him. Julien wanted him, and he showed Skipper this by drawing an index finger out and curling it, as though to draw him closer, closer.

I feel it…

I feel it, yeah...

It was as though Julien was pulling him forth, enchanting him with a power unmatched by any mesmeric entrancement Skipper had ever been influenced by prior. Julien was so capable of influencing him, and the lemur king knew it, took full advantage of it while leering all the while. Was this what it was to feel uncontrollable lust? Was this what it meant to be so beguiled by someone that you couldn't stop yourself from needing them with every fiber of your being?

I feel it…

I feel it, yeah...

He was just about to hop down from the tree, to join Julien and feel his control up close, when a throat cleared itself and, without warning, he was yanked harshly back into reality. Snapping his head away from Julien's influence, he saw Maurice and a red lemur standing beside him. They exchanged a glance before getting a bit closer.

"The king sure knows how to throw a party, right?" Maurice shouted above the music.

"You could say that," Skipper responded, his tone loud yet dry. He was still recovering from having been so under control from Julien, and the thought that the king was so powerful in his seduction was rather disquieting.

"Let's talk somewhere more private!" Maurice gestured to the inside of the tree, which had been hollowed out like all the rest in the lemur society.

Skipper followed Maurice and his red lemur companion inside. The floor of the entrance slanted downwards, leading them further into the crevice, until it became a secluded room. Maurice drew a curtain over the door, which only partially aided in blocking out the perpetual thump of music. Upon entering, there were three rocks cushioned with thick leaves. Maurice and the red lemur sat on two, and Skipper hesitantly sat on the third, unused to such bizarre seating arrangements.

"This is Clover," Maurice nodded to the red lemur, who simply gazed back at Skipper with a clinically professional expression.

"I take it you're the 'old friend' Maurice has told me about, then. It's a pleasure." Skipper leaned forth, holding out his flipper to shake.

She did the same. "The pleasure's all mine. I see that you've been taking good care of my king while he's been in hiding."

Hiding? Skipper filed away the phrasing for later to examine, and instead his beak lifted into a smile. "Yes, well, he's been a handful."

"That's the nice way of puttin' it." Maurice chimed in with a weary grin.

Clover chuckled quietly. "That's Julien for you… I'm his old bodyguard, though I've been ruling in his place while he's been gone."

Skipper rose a brow. "I thought that he had a lizard doing that for him… Not that I expected to work, but."

Clover's smile thinned slightly. "Yes, Stevie. He was eaten by a hawk within the first week of his ruling."

"Sorry to hear that." Skipper muttered, tone only slightly insincere.

She only shrugged. "Well! It's not important now, anyway. Maurice has told me much about you. I must say, your track record is impressive. I myself have been in the militant work for my entire life."

He found himself impressed with this, a genuine grin now worming it's way onto his features. "Really? Julien was lucky to have you protecting him, then."

She huffed, flattered. "Oh, well, I consider myself lucky to have been his protector."

Maurice's gaze turned distant for a moment. "Anyone who's ever known the king has been lucky to have met him."

Clover and Skipper glanced to the aye-aye for a moment, before they exchanged a look. Clover smiled almost apologetically, before she cleared her throat. "Ah, right! Very true. Well, Mr. Skipper…"

"Please, just Skipper is fine." His smile widened. She was truly worthy of being a comrade, there was no need for formalities.

"Skipper." She nodded thankfully. "I hate to cut the pleasantries short, but I'm sure we're both very aware that someone is trying to kill King Julien. As his bodyguard and stand-in, I refuse to let that happen. We're playing in my sandbox now, and I take good care of my sandbox."

He found himself absolutely smirking at the analogy - finally, someone who understood a good metaphor. "Ohoho, I know the feeling. And I'm with you, sister. Keeping Julien safe has been my main priority since I've taken up this mission."

Clover grinned back. "Good to hear. Now, since we're both working on keeping him out of harm's way, I'd like to know everything you know about the case, down to the last detail. When these assassination attempts started getting serious, every spot of information you can give me."

"That's doable." He concurred. "Let's see. It all started when three nights ago, at exactly 2300 hours..."

The night wore on as he explained to Clover the specifics of what had happened, though in an entirely impersonal manner, leaving completely out his developing attraction for Julien, in addition to Julien's strange and elusive behavior. As he went on and on, his mind wandered to the murky feelings of desire he'd felt, and he could only hope that he wasn't missing too much of Julien's sensual dancing.